Three Generations Of David Clarke
by SkullGauddess
Summary: Future-fic! After the events of Chaos (S01E15). Daniel, unfortunately, was the one who died on the beach and Emily has had to raise their child - not alone, however, but - with the help of the Grayson's. The holidays roll around for nine year old Kara and all she wants is for the extended family together under the same roof. What could possibly go wrong? Many ships inside.
1. Chapter 1

"Mom?"

A woman with shoulder length dirty-blonde hair turned abruptly in the doorway with a questioning hum and a lift of her brow.

"Will you tell me the story?" A girl with short, thick brown hair flashed her best puppy-dog eyes in hopes of stopping her mother from leaving.

As pleading brown connected with a darker shade, the woman gave in with a defeated sigh. Her finger continued its path towards the switch and clicked off the light before deciding to close the door as planned; only shutting herself on the inside. At this, the girl smiled with gratification and burrowed deeper beneath the bedsheets.

Once the woman reached the mattress, she took a seat on the edge and leaned her weight on her arms posted on either side of the girl's tiny frame. The dirty-blonde brushed stray locks from the brunette's face and tilted her head.

"Haven't you heard it enough?" If the woman's smug expression wasn't palpable, her tone was inadequate to be taken gratingly. But the girl's forehead wrinkled nonetheless.

"**Please**," she implored.

The woman's face slowly saddened as the concept fought on behind her eyes between conflicting thoughts—to oppose or to favor? Her gaze began seeking out anything else other than her daughter.

It was surreal; how much the girl resembled her father. How much Emily yearned for their child to have known him. And it hurt. To recognize him within her, it physically hurt.

The dirty-blonde pulled away then, stabilizing herself by placing her feet firmly on the floor.

"What is it about this story that makes you like it so much?" she inquired. "It doesn't exactly have a happy ending."

The girl's line of sight instantly flew to the photograph framed on the nightstand. "Cause," she whispered. "It's bout daddy."

Emily took a moment in an attempt to compose herself; swallowing through the constriction of her throat and blinking away her blurred vision, before she followed her daughter's gaze.

How could she have told her daughter the truth? That her father was shot in cold blood upon the beach just outside their home where she played. That the man who had pulled the trigger was his friend and former Harvard roommate. Despite the cruel reality, it was far more complicated than could be explained; not to mention the so many other things at play that night.

How ironic that she would fully understand her own father's motives behind the information he had kept from her, now. Why he had chosen Nolan to intrust with delivering his last written words, apart from being the only person in the world who had remained on his side. How fitting that she would treat her own child with the same secrecy for the sake of the same reasonings.

Emily found the girl's face again, only to discovery her staring back, and offered a weary smile. History, like truth, was inevitable. No matter how far you run from it—no matter how deep it's buried, how much pain it may inflict, or how much solace it may offer—it would always come to pass. That time would rear its ugly head sooner or later, whether Emily was ready for it or not. That was why she had created the fairytale. The Hamptons was very much like a kingdom and the Grayson's had ruled it with a manipulative hand. It wasn't a question of if, but when verity ensued, she knew her daughter would have questions long before maturity developed.

So as she admired the innocence and chastity of her daughter, Emily supposed this was the only way for the girl to connect with him—for them both. It wouldn't be enough for their child to simply be told that her father loved her. The girl would need an explanation, and at this stage of the young brunette's life, she has no choice but to lionize him.

If his child was to be defied more by Daniel's absence than his presence, it wouldn't be voluntary. Thus the sole purpose of the story.

Emily cleared her throat, extracting retaliation's seductive temptation and climbed onto the small twin bed, curling beside the girl and pulling her close.

"Once upon a time there was a little girl," she began, glancing down at her daughter and tapping her lightly on the nose. "About your age, whose mother died long ago and whose father worked for the king. He was kind, generous, humble but strong, just as any knight." Emily's eyes glowed with pride, then flickered out as she continued. "But he also had a weakness."

"The queen," the girl interjected.

"They had fallen in love in secret." nodded the blonde. "It wasn't until the king had perpetrated treason did he learn about their affair. So the king framed the knight for a crime he didn't commit and was executed."

"And the queen was really sad cause she lost the man she loved."

Emily leaned back against the headboard to flash her daughter a smirk. "See, you know it by heart."

"Mom," whined the girl with a roll of her eyes.

Laughter came from the hall at the gesture and caused both females to jump, the innersprings bouncing slightly. Their heads jerked up toward a man with matching short, dirty-blonde hair relaxing his shoulder against the doorcase; unbeknown to them that he had quietly opened it ajar.

"Nolan!" the brunette cheered, throwing her hands up from where she laid. But her mother wasn't as welcoming. Emily gave him a stern look and he smiled apologetically.

"You wanna finish telling it?" asked the girl, now propped on her elbows.

"Sorry care bear," The man surrendered his hands up and shook his head. "That's not my story to tell."

"But you know it, right?"

Nolan shrugged in his lanky awkward way and offered an uneasy grin. "I...may have read it in a journal somewhere."

The woman flashed him a warning over the top of her daughter's head and he cowered slightly in the doorway. Emily snuggled closer to the girl, awaiting for her daughter's attention before she spoke.

"The queen was very sad. But she was also very hurt and angry. She allowed herself to become bitter."

"People called her the ice queen cause of that, but she won't really, right mom?"

"Right." She shared a knowing look with Nolan across the room. "She wasn't completely frozen. But she didn't help the knight either, and the knight's daughter became obsessed with getting revenge."

"Revenge!" the girl echoed.

Nolan smirked to himself and silently thought, _if only she knew_.

"Yes. Revenge. With no one to care for the little girl, she ran away and as she aged, she was taught the ancient ways of vengeance. For years the kingdom accepted what ever the king and queen told them, and lived obliviously under their web of lies. Especially their children, one of which was a prince who didn't wish to be king. But a noble knight."

The brunette's chest rose with humility, knowing that this was where her father came in, then let it out triumphantly as she intently clung onto her mother's every word.

"However, there was a commoner who was friends with the little girl's father and he knew the truth." Nolan's ears perked. "So when she returned—now a woman—he wanted to help her bring down the empire."

"But she falled in love with the prince," The girl glanced up at the older woman. "And he talked her into stopping her revenge!"

"That, she did." Emily said, returning a warm smile.

Their voices began to muffle as Nolan watched them interact. It made his heart swell with happiness when Emily permitted her softer side to convey. Because fauxmanda had taken over the woman's true identity, it left the only real family he's ever had devoid of her former self and forced her to continue on with the facade she had commerced. The only genuine part of her she reserved for her child, Kara.

Her past had done most of the damage, but when Daniel was ripped from Emily and so coincidentally, a part of her would always blame herself. She closed herself off from the world and entered a deep depression. For several months Nolan feared for her well-being and began to believe she would never again let anyone close to her.

Then, she was going to have a baby. Suddenly there was reason to get up in the morning. She wasn't the girl next door or the widowed-fiance of the prodigal Grayson son anymore. Though Emily may have questioned the responsibility, she never once doubted her love for Kara. Even at arm's length, Nolan had seen first hand the change in the woman nevertheless.

Emily had given Kara life. And what ever consolation Emily lacked else where, her daughter was able to provide.

_They filled each other blanks_, he often pointed out.

She had made it her innate duty to not only provide care and guidance—what she was unjustly denied all those year ago—but also stand guard and protect her child from intruders. For a while that was from everyone outside the beach house. Slowly but surely, an inner circle was formed and as much as it pains Emily to admit, that involved the very people she had sworn to destroy.

"It's cause she and the queen didn't like each other very much." Kara explained to her mother, bringing Nolan out from his thoughts and he snorted.

"That's an understatement."

Kara giggled, though Emily proceeded with the story as if he hadn't spoken.

"The queen didn't trust her and tried to push the knight's daughter away, even though they both loved the prince dearly."

A look passed over her daughter's face a moment. "Then the prince got hurt." she added, lowering her voice to a near whisper.

Nolan connect eyes with Emily before the woman tore her focus away.

"Yes...he did. He was hurt very badly in battle and no one could save him. Not even true love's kiss." She caressed her daughter's face as the brunette yawned and they were all caught by a break of silence.

"You forgot the most important part," Nolan intoned, clearing his throat and taking a step further into the bedroom. Mother and daughter gave him their attention, despite Kara resisting her heavy eyes. "The knight's daughter had a little girl of her own and they lived happily ever after with the commoner." he grinned with a wink.

Kara sleepily snickered up at her mother. "And you said it didn't have a happy ending."

Emily hummed. "Do you know how much I love you?"

The brunette reached for her mother's right wrist and flipped it over to reveal a double infinity sign permanently drawn there.

"Infinity times infinity," she responded while tracing a stubby thumb over the intertwining black lines.

Her mother bent down and planted a kiss on top of the girl's head. "Goodnight, Kara."

She carefully unwrapped herself from around her daughter and stood to leave. Nolan retraced his steps back into the hallway and waited for Emily to join him, when a noise called from behind. They both turned and gave Kara inquiring expressions.

"Is that story true?" she asked.

"Loosely based," voiced Nolan nonchalantly.

Emily placed a hand on his arm, quieting him. "Take note of the prominent use of the word, **loosely**." she clipped, ending any further discussion on the subject.

Nolan bowed his head slightly and disappeared around the corner. Her mother lingered a moment longer to bid Kara a final reassuring smile, then left her daughter to the child's dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

Bare feet patted softly against the hardwood flooring of the master suite as Emily made her way across the room to the bed, her arms raised combing out the last tress of damp hair. The mattress dipped as the blonde perched herself on the edge and Nolan felt himself roll towards her. Eyes closed and a smirk tugging at his lips, a hand slipped itself beneath the blonde's undershirt, her back turned for him to conveniently do so. He hummed pleasantly to himself feeling goosebumps sprout in the wake of his finger's trail and his smile deepened when she leaned into the touch.

"Intriguing story," he mumbled. He was going for humorous, maybe even a little flirty, but he instantly presumed it still too early for jokes at the tensing of her muscles to his words.

He supposed even after all this time, that button had sustained its sensitivity.

"Don't." she warned in that exhausted but firm tone that had always echoed through his every memory of her.

His hand fell with a muffled slap before he pulled himself to sit up, groaning groggily. It was a few moments of silent thinking until he carefully spoke.

"So...what are you going to do?" His gaze struggled to focus through squinted slits while cupping his hands behind his neck.

She let out a deep sigh which relaxed her shoulders and it was then that he realized how heavy this request in question was weighing on her.

"You know how much it pains me..." Emily might have said more as she took a short pause but any possible clarifications escaped her when Nolan shook his head and chimed in.

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Ems." he assured. "I'd be lying if I didn't completely loath the idea, but...they are her grandparents."

The blonde suddenly twisted around so she could look at him from over a shoulder, one leg bent by the knee settled next to her while the other continued to dangle off the side of the bed. "You know what she said to me the other day?"

Nolan raised his brow inquiringly. "What..."

Emily declined further onto the queen size mattress, positioning a pillow to cushion between her and the white cast iron bars of the bed frame, hooking Nolan with anticipation by a narrowed perplexed expression; one of both amazement and irritation.

"Kara—from the minute she got up till the minute she went to bed I was constantly onto her about leaving her things everywhere," she began. "As you well know." He lifted his left leg out from under the blankets, gesturing at it.

"Yes. I know." he clipped amusingly. His ankle had yet to fully rid of the yellow and purple sprain.

"After I made her clean the mess, she starts up the stairs. She comes back down and sticks her head around the corner and says _mom, I am really getting tired of you_."

The entire bed jostled as laughter bubbled out of Nolan and his arms dropped into his lap. Even though Emily doesn't find anything remotely funny about her daughter's retort, contrary to her best efforts, a grin cracks her solemn facade.

"Typical Vicky," he said, once he finally calmed down enough to catch his breath. "I guess it's true what they say," It was Emily's turn to arch an inquisitive eyebrow. "The apple doesn't fall far from the dysfunctional tree."

In the midst of rolling her eyes, the blonde tossed the comb she'd been fiddling with on the nightstand and pulled the lamp's chain down, casting them to a dimmer illumination, then drew the covers on top of herself. "Speaking of trees," she noted. "We need one."

Shifting onto his side and leaning his weight on an elbow, Nolan's features creased with confusion. "And what, pray tell, is wrong with the artificial one?"

"Apart from the obvious?" Emily scoffed, tearing her eyes away from his, should he see the true lining of her concerns. She really doesn't want to hear Victoria's mouth about it.

He wasn't a fool. He knew only too well the age-old war that raged on between these women. It was in their very nature that just intimidated the hell out of each other; not that they'd ever admit it. They were simply too much alike to appreciate their similarities.

Emily reflected a soul much like Victoria's own—damaged by wounds that would never heal, scars that couldn't be seen to the naked eye. Put there by a heart that once cared too much.

What Nolan hadn't realized until now, though, was that they didn't keep the world at arm's length for fear of getting hurt again—for protection, yes, but not for themselves—but from anyone who dared get close.

"Well," He cleared his throat. "Sounds to me like you've already made up your mind."

"Kara wants **nothing** else for Christmas," Emily scooted herself down to lie completely flat. "She's made that abundantly clear." she added under her breath. "But you know, if I don't make this happen—"

"She won't let it go." They both said in unison, causing their eyes to connect.

"So invite them." Nolan shrugged.

She sighed, glancing down at her hands that rested in a folded fashion on her stomach. "It's not that simple."

"It's not that difficult, either." he countered.

Emily blew out a shallow breath, readying herself to enlighten him. "Charlotte won't be coming because she's too far along in her pregnancy, she can't travel. Amanda told me that she, Jack and the kids have already made plans to go and visit her and Declan this year, so that takes care of all of the Porters. I'm sure Conrad and Victoria will have no quarrels about coming. But based on the fact that they haven't shared a conversation, much less the same room since their divorce—"

"Homicidal." Nolan finished for her, a little too melodramatic for the blonde's liking.

"You of all people should know the potential of how disastrous that can be." Two fingers began massaging calming circles on her temple. "It's bad enough that I have to go next door and dig out all the decorations."

"She's still in London, isn't she?" he pondered aloud.

"As far as I know." singsonged Emily.

"Alright." His tone was not at all thrilled as he turned onto his back, collecting his hands together just below his chin and closed his eyes. "First thing tomorrow I'll place a bounty over some poor, defenseless tree from Warren's or Lynch's. And I might as well track down grandma and grandpa dearest while I'm at it."

After a few minutes, all it seemed Emily could do was stare blankly at the ceiling. The off-white popcorn pebbles that matted the surface above had long imprinted themselves in her brain. There had been many a night when she lied here, and counted them. After a while, outlined images appeared to her not unlike constellations.

Her mind, however, was quite distant. It always drifted twenty five odd years back in history. Those memories are never far from her thoughts. The suffering she had endured and the suffering she so much wanted to cause, and upon the same people who had inflicted it.

But then there are others. Birthdays and anniversaries briefly flash along side graduations. Weddings come and go; a fidgety Declan, a radiant Charlotte, a glassy-eyed Jack, and a glowing Amanda. Yet, all the while, she was never alone.

Emily can distinctly recall Nolan nervously handling a small bundle to the dark haired woman from her past and Victoria beams down at the newborn baby with the most sincere smile Emily has ever or since seen grace the older woman's features.

That man that now peacefully sleeps next her and has literally occupied that space for as long as she can remember. From the moment she stepped beyond the fence of Allenwood, he was her voice of reason while she ran rapid around the world, seeking out herself. When she decided on revenge, he assisted her, if only to remain within her proximity after she had cashed out from his company. The only way for him to connect with her in those days. He kept pushing back, rather than giving up like so many before him. Throughout her pregnancy and for those first miserable nights with Kara from the hospital, he was there. It amazed her that he stuck around.

She wants nothing more than to show him how much he is appreciated, how much she cares for him. How much she wants to love him. But even as she finds herself watching him slumber, and her body tingles yearning for his contact, she remains where she is.

Even when she wants to steer her daughter away from a life that involves Grayson Manor, Grayson Global, or anything Grayson, she can't.

Takeda's words ring in one ear: _if you let your emotions guide you, you will fail._

And her father's in the other: _all I ask is that you promise to forgive._

It was in this moment that a notion suddenly dawned on Emily.

Adversity created unexpected alliances, which had been found in the least expected. Loyalties forged in apprehension and mistrust as to the start of their acquaintance was tedious at best. But in the darkness of the most desperate of hours, it was these loyalties that brought forth strength.

Because if inviting Conrad and Victoria into their home, permitting them free reign into the life that she had created with Kara and Nolan insured her child the luxury of a family's love, Emily would do it. She would grant Kara this wish.

However, having finalized it in her head, when nothing else should be keeping her awake, trepidation lingered.


	3. Chapter 3

Reaching up with her free hand, Emily opened the cabinet to the coffee cups, selecting one, and placed it down on the counter. In that instant the kettle began to whistle and she made quick work pulling it off the red eye, quieting the room back to its peaceful silence. She wants to revel in it. To drink her tea and soak up what little time to herself she can get before Kara wakes.

It were moments like these that gave Emily pause, how much she missed her old life. Days when she didn't have a care in the world, to take a nap in the afternoon, to make love all day or lounge around naked if she wanted. To not have to do anything at all, not have to think about where her daughter is or what she's doing. Now instead, Emily finds solace in reflection. Looking back it seemed she had it better than she realized. At the time though, it didn't feel enough, but she had her blinders on then. Working her way through the revenge agenda, marking people off the list as she went, was all Emily could think about. All she cared to see. All the while, ignoring her heart.

With what happened to Daniel, it was clear that she needed to minimize the fallout from what she was doing, to press pause on all of it. To regroup and reassess. Only, what she assumed would take a couple weeks turned into nine months and almost ten years later, the motivation to exonerate her father is still there. It lingers in the back of her mind, never far from thought. She supposes her revenge will never be finished—that she will never be finished. As much as she may crave for those days again, she knows she wouldn't change anything if she could. Because those same choices inadvertently gave her Kara.

Whether or not the girl would be enough to stop Emily's desire for revenge completely, remains uncertain.

She shivers slightly at this, bringing herself out of her own reverie. There had been too many occasions when things didn't go as planned, things that weren't supposed to happen. Occurrences she hadn't set in motion, and the last thing she would want was for Kara to get injured in any of it. If anything were to happen to her daughter, Emily wouldn't know what to do with herself.

She pressed the send button on her cellphone before lifting it to her ear and dipped a teabag inside the mug, dangling its string over the lip. Then she poured steaming water inside, filling it the rim and returned the kettle to the stovetop. Suddenly Nolan's voice came on the line and she wrapped the white string around her fingers, repeatedly dunking the teabag in and out of the cup.

"I got your message, what'd you find?" she questioned, beating him to the situation at hand.

"Good morning to you too, sunshine."

"Sorry," she rolled her eyes, picking up on the sarcasm. Her patience was wearing thin and was beginning to think she'd been out of the game too long. "There isn't a vacant room available in the entire state of New York, I don't where I'm going to put them."

"Okay, first of all," he began, his thought process reassembling itself. "You're exaggerating a little bit. Secondly, I thought the whole point of this was to have them stay at the house so they could spend Christmas morning with Kara."

"Unless you're going to tell me they aren't coming..." she secretly hoped, bringing the cup to her lips as the phone slid away from her mouth.

"Promise you won't get mad."

Swallowing the warm liquid, Emily closed her eyes and concentrated on its soothing remedy. Once she felt the tea burn her chest was she able to find her voice. "Just tell me."

"Mm, feisty, I like it." She could hear the smirk on his face, which in turn tugged the corners of her lips.

"Morning," Kara yawned, making herself known from the bottom of the stairs.

_So much for time to myself_, Emily thought as she craned her neck and gave her daughter a wink from over a shoulder. Changed out of her pajamas, it was clear to her that Kara had been up for a while and was confirmed as such when she flashed freshly brushed teeth in a smile.

"Who you talking to?" the brunette asked curiously, climbing to take a seat on a barstool and watched as her mother exchanged placing the coffee cup on the counter to tape the same hand over the mic.

"Nolan," whispered Emily.

"Oh." Kara's shoulders slumped.

"Conrad's expectant arrival is on the twentieth." informed Nolan, the clicking of a mouse echoing in the background. "But there's a catch."

"There always is."

"He's bringing Lydia."

What ever was said was obviously not what her mother wanted to hear. Kara eyed the blonde closely as Emily bent over the kitchen's island to cradle her forehead in the palm of her hand and let out a deep sigh.

She was stressed, and that was never a good sign. When it came to a crises—however trivial—her mother was more often than not the one passing out orders. But Kara wasn't getting that vibe. This felt as if her mother was on edge based off of some impending doom. Which only meant one thing because nothing rattled her mother.

Nothing, that was, except her grandmother.

Kara began to get excited. "Mom," she called for Emily's attention and waited as patiently as she could muster for any acknowledgment that she were heard.

"Ems? You still there?" Nolan inquired.

"Mom, you talk to grandma or grandpa yet?"

"I'm working on it, baby." Emily answered irritably, her next words directed toward the other person. "What about Victoria?"

"I haven't been able to get in touch with her."

The dirty-blonde rose her head, positioning it to rest her chin on her elbow. "You try her cell?"

There was a short break of silence. "Yes..." Her sour mood was starting to rub off on him. "That's what I'm saying, it's off. I'm just forwarded to voicemail."

"What about the hotel?"

"I was snootily informed that Miss Grayson has since checked out."

"Since when?" blurted Emily, not meant to have said that out loud.

"Since Thursday...?" Nolan was confused. Why doesn't he hear relief in her voice?

_That's...strange. Where the hell is she then?_

"I don't know what to tell you, Ems. I mean...what would you have me do, track her credit cards?"

"No," she breathed, straightening to her full height.

Kara wasn't liking the way the conversation was sounding. "So?" nudging her mother's arm. "Mom, what's he saying?"

Emily slid the phone to the side once again. "Grandpa's coming." she prompted, a bit too assertively making Kara's head timidly jerk to back of her neck.

"Well...what about grandma?"

"Kara." her mother hardened her tone. "Go outside and play, or why don't you go check and see if there are any packages next door."

If her daughter was hurt by her sternness for dismissal, it was short lived. Kara's face lit up like fireworks on the fourth of July for permission to visit next door—to Grayson Manor. _To her house, grandma's house. _Before Emily had the chance to say anything more, her daughter had jumped off the barstool and practically flew out the back door.

Whatever Kara saw in Victoria was missed on her.

Well...not entirely.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** I realize this update is long overdue and I sincerely apologize. I hope I haven't lost any readers, so I ask that everyone please review!

* * *

Fingers traced from the highrise of her cheek bones down to the valley of her jaw towards her chin. Every morning when she awoke just like every night before bed, Victoria had a strict ritual of beauty measures she preformed that had long spoken for her graceful skin. She started with washing her face thoroughly then contouring her eyebrows before moisturizing. It was when she finished applying her makeup that she found herself lost in a daze at her vanity, nails trailing along her lips.

That kiss. Tender. Passionate. His kiss. She couldn't get Conrad out of her head. For the life of her, she couldn't find an adequate reason in rationalizing exactly what she had let happen. She wasn't usually this flustered. What alarmed her most was the fact that it seemed to leave her feeling the way she did when she was with David.

It wasn't until she had found herself smiling like a school girl in the elevator of the Mandarin Oriental that it dawned on her she was having an affair with her ex-husband, who was now married to his mistress. How had the tables suddenly turned and she inadvertently become the other woman? Technically she had had him first but even so, they were married for over twenty years and not once was he able to excavate such emotions. She'd only been with one man since their divorce, and yet, Conrad of all people was all of a sudden more intoxicating—more enticing than the other she made love with.

What was wrong with her? She was finally free of the man who was able to hurt her and in the worst of ways, only to run—wait a minute.

_Made love? _Was that what they'd been doing?

The mere thought widened her eyes at her reflection and what she saw staring back was an old, pathetic excuse for a woman. Lonely and insecure. This was not the Victoria she knew. She was the Ice Queen of the Hamptons, goddammit. Her cold and closed off demeanor was supposed to keep her from doing foolish things like secret _rendezvous in London...w_ith married men...with the same married man. Again.

She hadn't come to that realization until the elevator doors opened with a ding and she hastily pressed the button for the ground floor, where she proceeded to check out; undoubtedly standing Conrad up and without so much as an explanation.

That was two days ago.

Back at Grayson Manor that is her castle, Victoria's face slowly contorted into an expression of disdain. No; her mother was who she was curling her lip at now. She had an impulse to shatter the image before her as her hands unconsciously rolled into fists. She wouldn't be this way if it wasn't for her mother. She wouldn't have sought out love and affection in all the wrong places if she had just been given it from the beginning.

It was in that moment that a soft knock sounded at her closet door. Victoria's head snapped with a slight jump spotting her granddaughter through the looking glass behind her, a mixed expression of sadness and worry creasing the girl's features.

"Kara," she breathed out in relief, pressing a hand against her chest and pushed out a laugh. "You scared me half to death."

The young brunette gave Victoria an apologetic look from under long lashes, still caught off guard with what she saw and feeling like it was something she shouldn't have.

Kara had made her way to the front entrance of Grayson Manor to discover that not only were there no packages on the stoop but the door unlocked. She wrapped her hands around the knob and pushed it open. The table that stood center of the foyer had several cardboard boxes stacked upon it with matching luggage tucked underneath on the floor.

She instantly knew that someone was home. But not just anyone.

Closing the door, Kara quietly made a quick sweep of the first floor in search for her grandmother, to no avail. The entire house was draped in sheets, protecting the furniture from what comes when you're away. She slowly climbed the stairs to the second floor. She doesn't bother to check any of the other bedrooms, instead going straight for the master suit. Last door, end of the hall. She knows if her grandmother is here at all, that's where she'll be. Once in the bedroom, she tiptoed across the carpet as to not spoil her presence without a surprise. She noticed the bedsheets were disturbed and the balcony's french doors spread open, but the dark haired woman was nowhere to be seen.

She knew of no one quite like Victoria Grayson. Though heading towards the walk-in-closet, what she found struck fear in her gut. Sitting at the vanity was the shell of her grandmother, but what filled the older woman was an extreme amount of sorrow—pain Kara hoped to never know. Where Victoria appeared to be in the room, her mind was someplace else entirely.

Of course Kara had seen behind the mask. There were moments when it was thought no one was looking, did it slip, showing glimpses of a place that not even her love could heal. It never failed to intrigue her, because she always thought of Victoria as so worldly, so regal, that nothing could penetrate the stonewall-like veneer of the older woman. However, as she gazed in silence, perhaps the indestructible nature she had expected Victoria to maintain was what all little girls did when their world revolved around them—ones who held their admiration.

Perhaps nothing is that strong, not even her grandmother.

Then, from the moment she made herself known, that mask fell perfectly back into place.

Victoria spun around on the stool and motioned for Kara to approach. The girl obliged, after a moment of hesitation, halting in front of the older woman with a fidgety nervousness.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

Twin lines of concern appeared on Victoria's forehead. "For what sweetheart?"

"For why you're sad."

Victoria pursed her lips and instantly wrapped her arms around the girl, pulling her close and kissing her repeatedly until a smile sprung loose. "Well I certainly am better now that you're here." she proclaimed between pecks and shared giggles.

When they pulled apart, only far enough to peer into each others faces, both showed pristine teeth peeking from behind lips that pinched matching dimples in their cheeks.

"Is that why you're back early?" Kara asked.

Without missing a beat, Victoria nodded curtly. "Of course. Christmas simply wouldn't be the same."

"Well..." The girl wickedly grinned and her grandmother arched an eyebrow. "You get me anything?"

Victoria scoffed in mock offense. "Did I get you anything? Am I not enough?"

"You are, you are!" Kara exclaimed. "It would just make it that much better!"

Victoria laughed. "Why don't we save the presents for Christmas morning, shall we?"

"Okay," Kara pouted, but it quickly faded when she received another peck on the cheek.

Victoria stood up and smoothed out her pencil squirt before pushing the vanity's seat under the counter and took her granddaughter by the hand.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" At the shake of the girl's head, an idea came to mind. "Then you're coming with me."

Kara's eyes brightened. "Can we go to Ashley's?"

There was a break of silence as Victoria hesitated to answer. She did not want, by any means, to take the chance of bumping into her former assistant and witness the younger woman's good fortune.

Since being dismissed shortly in following after Daniel's untimely passing, Ashley had turned to the culinary arts, as it was supposedly a secret passion of hers, and over the years had acquired co-ownership of a four star restaurant in Southampton.

Stepping foot inside the establishment would be the equivalent as hand-delivering her approval by word of mouth. It would also mean Victoria's willingness to overlook past-indiscretions and acknowledge her support, which her pride wasn't willing to swallow.

However, there wasn't much she could deny her granddaughter, causing her to bend with ease to the girl's rule.

"If we must." she groaned, her reluctance missed.

Kara did a little skip and a jump, tugging on the older woman's arm and pulling her from behind. "Okay! But we have to ask mom first."

That was something else Victoria detested—asking permission. The mere thought of asking for anything from anyone at her age caused her eyes to roll.

Especially from the likes of Emily Thorne.


End file.
